Sacrifice: a Fight or Flight ficlet
by Sexy Meat Pies
Summary: How far will Bass go to get what he wants? And what will Rachel do to protect Lindsay from Strausser?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: you know how these ficlets work by now. :) **

* * *

Rachel's POV

**Nine years after the Blackout**

Sergeant Strausser shuts the door, and the last thing I see is that damn toolbox. As red as my blood that stains it. I breathe heavily, and spit out blood onto the floor.

"You think this proves anything?" Miles asks, coming in the room. "You think that keeping your silence through all these interrogations, or saying 'I don't know' to these questions prove that you truly don't know?"

"If it doesn't then I don't know what will," I quip, "Seeing as I truly have no answer for the questions you keep asking me."

"C'mon, Rachel," He says, annoyed. He walks towards me, placing big, rough hands on my shoulders. He leans down, speaking into my hair, "Now you know that's not true. You told me yourself."

"I don't know..." I say slowly, "what you're talking about." He groans, and moves his forefinger up and down my arm, pausing at the ropes around the wrists, almost as if to remind me that they're there, that I'm vulnerable.

"You told me the day you came," He says, "you could get the lights back on."

"I lied, Miles," I reply, turning my head away from him. "And I think you know that." He just laughs. Once, bitterly, and with his mouth closed. I ponder the difference between Miles and Bass during interrogation. Bass is... sustained and short-tempered. If it was him in here now, he would've slapped me. He would've held his words out. He always does. _Ohhh Rachel... Tell me what I want._ His hands would've ran over my skin. But not longingly. No, he would've done it just to intimidate me.

But, Miles on the other hand, Miles is a pro. A temper-controlled master of _Interrogation 101_. His words are not drawn out, just there. But terrifying. Miles doesn't have to slap me to scare me. He has, of course, when I push him. But his words, his look alone is enough to make me shiver. And as far as the skin-touching, thay _is_ longing. Unlike Bass, Miles does it with a large amount of want. Maybe he's acting, but it's convincing if that's the case. It's like I can feel the lust, just by him putting his hand on the small of my back. I stiffen now, as he does just that.

"How's your sister, Miles?" I ask, to distract him. "How is Lindsay?"

"She's good," he answers, unphased, "she's making apple pie tonight."

"Well, that should be good," I reply, masking my fear and paranoia with small talk, "she's always been a good baker."

"She has," he agrees, causally, "if you're good, I'll bring you a slice."

"Looking forward to it," I say politely. The door opens, and Bass walks in, looking smug.

"Anything?" He asks Miles, handing Miles a drink. That's one similarity between them: they're both always drunk or getting there during questioning.

"Nope," Miles replies, relaxing. They study me as if I'm an art piece. I mentally roll my eyes. They're doing this as a humiliation tactic. And I know it. And they _know _I know it. But they also know, as well as I do, that it could still work.

"She_ is_ beautiful, Miles," Bass says, in a complimenting tone, as if I belong to _General Matheson_. "I don't know how you control yourself." He reaches out, and strokes my cheek.

"Sometimes I can't." Miles grins devilishly, walking closer and playing with my hair, his fingers brushing my neck. I visibly roll my eyes now. They're acting like teenagers.

"Where does Lindsay think you are, Bass?" I ask. It's a fair question. She has no idea about any of this. No idea that her brother and her boyfriend have me tortured on a weekly basis. Though, I get the feeling that Miles hates what's going on. _Bass_ sent Strausser in here, as he always does, never Miles. And Lindsay doesn't know. No idea what happens to me at her boyfriend's _own_ hands. She's blissfully unaware. Hell, maybe Miles is too. Maybe he's oblivious to some parts of Bass'... interrogations. I hope so.

"Doing Presidential business," He smirks, "Which, technically, I am."

"Oh," I tilt my head, "I'm glad she still thinks you're a saint."

"Ohhh Rachel..." He says, like I expected him to. "You'd better be careful."

"Or what, Bass?" I challenge. "You'll bring Strausser back in?"

"No, I'll-" He's interrupted by a knock.

"Bass?" Lindsay calls. The three of us stiffen. "Bass, can I come in?"

"No, Linds, don't come in!" He says quickly, jogging over to the door. He opens it a bit and talks quietly with her.

"Miles, untie me," I say, in a hushed tone.

"What?" He asks, looking down.

"Untie me," I repeat.

"No," he says, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Lindsay will-"

"Bass is sending her away," He says shortly.

"You and I both know if she wants to come in, she will," I say quickly, "So unless you want your _little_ _sister_ to know what you've done to me, want her to look at you like _everyone else_ in this republic does, untie me. Take out your knife, and cut through the ropes." He eyes the door, and then nods. Bending down, he pulls out his knife. I feel the pain and tension on my wrists leave as the thin rope hits the floor.

"Alright, Linds," Bass glances back at us, "if you want to see boring official stuff, that's fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Drawer!" I hiss, pointing to my desk nearby, "put in the drawer!" He shoves the rope into it and slams it shut, as I push the chair under it. I wipe the blood off my lip with my sleeve and roll it up. I just get the other one rolled up as Lindsay walks in, "Hi, Lindsay!" I say, out of breath. She smiles.

"Hey, Rachel." She greets. Instantly, I'm reminded of another time Lindsay almost walked in on Miles and I.

* * *

_Miles rolls over onto his back. He smiles, kissing my ear. I smile slightly and kiss him on the lips._

_"You..." he breathes, kissing my neck, "Are..." he kisses my chin, "perfect." His lips press to mine. _

_"Am I?" I murmur, "Do you really believe that?" He sighs, and smiles, propping himself up with his arm. He looks at me. _

_"I honestly can find nothing wrong," he says. I scoff. _

_"Nothing, Miles, really?" I ask, "So you're **not** counting the fact that my husband is two rooms down?"_

_"Rachel..." he sighs, flopping onto his back. "Do you have to-" his phone vibrates and he picks it up. "Hello?" He sits straight up, in surprise, "What? Ok, yeah," he looks at me, and motions to my clothes on the floor, "yeah, yeah alright. Ok, bye."_

_"What the hell, Miles?" I ask, pulling my jeans on. _

_"My sister," he grunts, pulling his clothes on, too, "forgot her keycard in the living room. So now," he pulls his shirt on, tossing me my bra, "I have to let her in to get it." _

_"Oh," I say quietly. _

_"Don't worry about it," he says quietly, "she's not gonna suspect anything." _

_"Well, to be safe," I murmur. I go into the living room and slide the wine and two glasses into the mini-fridge, and run a brush through my hair. There's a knock on the door, and with a nod to me, Miles opens it._

_"Hey, Miles," Lindsay says, "Sorry, I must have left it in here when we all had breakfast here this morning," she looks around, "oh, hey Rachel!" She greets._

_"Hey, Linds," I smile. _

_"Is Ben here?" She asks, "I thought he'd be-"_

_"No, he's not here," I say quickly, "And don't tell him I was here." Behind her, Miles stares daggers at me and shakes his head. "Miles and I are planning a surprise for his birthday." _

_"Ok," she laughs, "but flying to Hawaii, isn't that a surprise we've done already?"_

_"Yeah, from mom and dad," Miles says, "we thought we'd do something too. You want in?"_

_"Yeah, sure," she shrugs, shaking her head, laughing, "but I can't talk now. I'm going to the theatre in thirty minutes and I have to get ready. So... my keycard?"_

_"Oh, right," Miles says, "It's, uh, on the arm of the couch."_

_"Thanks," she mutters, grabbing it, "I don't know how I left it here. See you later. Bye, Rachel," she adds._

_"Bye, Linds," I nod, "Enjoy your show." She smiles and leaves, Miles shutting the door after her. He turns to me._

_"And its all ok," He says, trying to reassure me. I just nod and mumble something about getting in the shower. Yeah, it's all ok, I think sarcastically, It's all ok that I'm cheating on my husband with his brother. Everything's just great._

* * *

Lindsay comes to stand in front of Miles and me. Bass puts an arm around her waist, and kisses the top of her head. She smiles and kisses his lips, her hand on his face. It slides down and rests on his chest. She leans her head on there, too, next to her hand. _God, they look so happy. So... in love._ Bass smiles down at her. He's proud. He's damn proud to have her. But he doesn't look at it like that, at least not from what I can tell. He loves her. She's not a possession to him. She loves him. He's not the evil, psychotic dictator that I know to her. It's sad, really. One day she going to find out and I'm terrified of that day.

I wonder what they told her. Why I came here. She doesn't know the truth, there's no way. Her eyes look sleepy. I glance over at the grandfather clock in the corner. It's only eight a.m., she probably just woke up. And immediately went right to find Bass. That's kind of sad, too. Miles and Bass leave a lot, to fight. Sometimes, it's so urgent they have to leave right away and only leave notes. I remember once, a few months ago, she ran all around the Hall, looking for them. She knocked on my door, and just as she came in, a soldier told her where they were. She fell into a chair, and cried, didn't even notice the blood stain on the couch.

"Bass and I are going to the opera today," she informs me, her eyes lighting up. "Do you want to come?"

"Oh," I look between her and Bass and Miles. They'd let me go, they'd have to. They wouldn't be able to force me to stay here without Lindsay knowing something is up. And I do love the opera. But, under no circumstances would I say yes. Sitting next to Bass, maybe even Miles, closely in a dark opera house. No thanks. I have Miles run his hands up and down my thighs enough as it is. "No, thanks, Linds. I've got to go shopping today."

"You sure?" She looks disappointed.

"Yeah," I wave it off, "you guys have fun."

"Oh, I'm not going," Miles laughs. I chuckle, because we're all a big, happy family here, right?

"Well, then it's a date night you two, then," I smile. "You deserve that, I think, Bass."

"Oh, you better believe it," Lindsay smiles, kissing him again.

"Well, we'd better get ready, then," Bass says, and walks away, Lindsay on his arm. I watch after them, my heart hurting for Lindsay. Bass is a time bomb. And when he explodes, he's going to hurt her.

"Good job," Miles sneers, "I think that earned you some pie."

I ignore him for now, and keep watching after Bass and Linds. Although they've made my life a living hell, Miles, Bass, and I have an unspoken agreement: Lindsay won't know. Ever. Lindsay is so innocent. Everything about her screams innocent. She's killed one person in her entire life, and she _still_ worries about it, nine years later. Miles and Bass come home from war, she's so scared. Scared one of them won't come through the front door. And when discuss casualties, she's so sad, and horrified. If I told her what they did to me, she'd be disgusted, and terrified. Miles doesn't want to know for her sake because he's sure she would run away, and he honestly doesn't think she can survive by herself. Plus, she would try to sneak me out, and militia would shoot her, before they could realize who she was.

And me, I don't want her to find out because I think that if she does, Bass won't let her leave. I think he'll hurt her. Of course, Miles doesn't know what I think. He and Bass lie to Lindsay all the time. To "protect her", they say. Oh, and there's the fact that Sergeant Strausser talks to me about Lindsay. He wants her. I see the way his eyes follow her in the hallway. And he knows she's not supposed to know. And, unbeknownst to Miles and possibly Bass, he flat out told me that if I told her, he'd start "visiting" her too. Miles would never,_ ever_ let that happen. Not to his sister. But Bass... he's crazy, and getting crazier. He loves Lindsay... but does he love her more than power? I don't know what he'll do, or how far he'll go. So, I keep my silence. And pretend everything is fine when Lindsay is around.

"Miles, you promise me," I say, finally. He puts down the glass, "you promise me that no matter what happens, I don't care what you do to me. But you promise me, that you won't let Bass hurt her. Promise me Lindsay will never get hurt." I don't think I could stand seeing that small, beautiful, innocent girl hurt like I have been.

"Rachel, why would you even-"

"Promise me, Miles!"

"Ok, I promise," he side eyes me, "Rachel, I'm never going to let anyone hurt my sister. I promise."

"Good." I nod, "Are we done here?"

"Yeah," he sighs, "see you tomorrow, Rachel."

"Bye, Miles," I mutter as the door closes and the lock clicks.

I came here to protect my family. Of course, I never thought it would like this. I never thought Miles could be capable of doing this to me. But I sacrificed my freedom and my sanity for my family. And I still am. This whole situation would be easier, saner, if I had someone to talk to, someone sympathetic. Like Lindsay. But I don't. I'm_ still_ sacrificing my sanity for my family. And Lindsay doesn't know. But then, neither does Miles. He doesn't know his best friend is insane. He doesn't know why I'm so scared for his sister. But he will, eventually. Because like I said, Bass is a time bomb. And it's only a matter of time before he explodes. Because he's already ticking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thirteen years after the Blackout**

They think I'm passed out. They must, because they're talking in normal voices. Bass hands Sergeant Strausser a drink as they discus what to "do with me". I'm not cooperative, obviously. But I'm too damn valuable to kill. I don't care what they do with me. They can't do anything worse than they've already done.

But when they move to a different subject, that's when I perk up. I play dead, obviously, because they wouldn't talk about this in front of me, but my ears are on high alert.

"...and what of Lindsay?" Strausser asks. "Has she said anything?"

"No," Bass sighs, "I thought for _sure _she was going to crack last night, but... no such luck."

"Sir, I think..." He trails off, looking down at his drink.

"Sergeant?" Bass prompts, "Speak freely."

"Well, sir, I think... and, forgive me, but," he pauses dramatically, "I think you're taking the wrong approach with Miss Matheson. You see, she _knows _ you. And, somewhere in her pretty little head, she might even still love you. You... taking her at night isn't that unusual for her, given your long relationship."

"And what are _you_ suggesting?" Bass ask, drinking.

"Well, sir, as is evident by the last two years she doesn't respond to physical torture," He smiles. At least, it sounds like he does, "and taking her to bed... that hasn't worked either. For _you."_

"Sergeant, you know my limitations," Bass says, dangerously, while my heart beats rapidly. He cannot touch her! Not like that. "So I would be _very _careful what you say next."

"Sir, just think, please," The sergeant says. "How important to you is getting General Matheson?"

"Its essential," He says shortly.

"Then the only way to get it out of the girl is to use..." he pauses, "more brutal methods of interrogation."

"You want to take advantage of Lindsay?" Bass asks, his voice barely kept under control, "Is that what you're telling me?"

"For the advancement of the Republic," Strausser counters, "Yes, sir, that's exactly what I'm saying." Bass sighs heavily, thinking it over. _He is NOT actually considering this, is he? He can't!_ No! That has always been the limit, the line he would not cross. He can't let this happen. Please, no.

"Alright," Bass says, finally, reluctantly. _NO! _"For the good of the Republic. Tomorrow night, you will go into Lindsay's room and you can do whatever you want with her and so on. Until she talks." He sounds like he hates it. But not nearly as much as I do. I imagine Lindsay sitting up in bed, calling for Bass, asking if it's him. But the one who answers will be Strausser. She'll protest, of course saying he's not supposed to be there and all that. He'll just laugh and do what he does to me. He'll jump on top of her, and strip her of her clothes, and then he'll overpower her, while she screams. He'll dominate her in every possible way, making her feel like she's nothing. I can't let that happen.

"No!" I scream, out loud, my eyes flying open. They spin to face me.

"Rachel!" Bass yells. "How long have you-"

"Bass, you can't do this!" I shout, "Lindsay does _not _deserve this. He," I glare at Strausser, "cannot touch her. Bass, you have hurt her enough. If you have _ever _cared about Lindsay-" I'm silenced by the sickening feel of the back of his hand on my cheek. I don't stop talking, "Go ahead, hurt me. I don't care. But, Bass, please, _please _don't hurt her."

"What do you suggest I do, Rachel?" He asks furiously, "She _has_ to talk. So unless you have a better plan-"

"Anything is better than _this_!" I scream. "Bass, setting that monster on her more than you already have will only make her hate you more."

"She loves me," He replies sharply.

"Even if that were true," I say carefully, "she wouldn't. Not if you do this. Bass, believe me, this is something that can't be forgiven." He stares at me.

"Rachel, you have about five seconds to give me a better plan," he says, "or I send Strausser in _tonight_ and he will do whatever he sees fit." Strausser grins in an evil way.

"Five seconds, Bass?" I ask incredulously. Who can come up with a plan in five seconds?

"Go." He says in turn. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think. Surely, Lindsay has told me something that could help... ugh, I don't know! Then, it hits me.

"Do you have any barbiturates?" I ask.

"What?"

"Barbiturates," I repeat. "Your doctor may have them to knock people out during surgery."

"I think so, yes," he nods.

"If you have enough of them," I say slowly "you can make me appear dead. No breathing, no pulse, heartbeat, nothing."

"How?"

"Do you think you will understand the chemistry if I _tried _to explain it to you?" I ask. He says nothing, and I continue, "you make me look dead. Tell Lindsay I am. That will prove to her that you will do _anything." _I look at the floor, before meeting his gaze, "she will respect you. She will be so broken over my death that she will do anything you say."

"She'll respect me?" He repeats.

"Yes, Bass," I roll my eyes, "she'll kneel and bow in your very presence." He ponders it.

"Sergeant," he turns, "go and check with the doctor, see if he has these drugs."

"Yes, sir," he leaves the room.

"Rachel, I'm impressed," he smiles, moving to run his fingers through my head. "_If _we have what you need, how much is... enough?"

"Enough to drop a horse," I mutter, while he kisses my shoulder.

"Let's hope this works," he sighs his breath spreading over my skin.

"Let's hope," I agree, closing my eyes, praying it does. Because if Bass does to Linds _everything _he's done to me, I think she'll die. And who knows, if she thinks I'm dead, maybe she'll escape. Like Bass said: _let's hope._


End file.
